


Part 2: Hunting Things; Saving People

by Sanshal



Series: Gifts of the Apocalypse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 13:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4021675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanshal/pseuds/Sanshal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam had always assumed weird to be synonymous with Winchester. And with Lucifer out of his cage, he only expected the strangeness quotient to increase.<br/>But even in his wildest dreams he had never anticipated that the biggest change of the apocalypse would be him and Dean raising a child.</p><p>Together</p><p>Or; in short... the story of how Jesse-the Anti Christ came to live with the Winchester brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part 2: Hunting Things; Saving People

** Part 2: Hunting Things; Saving People **

“You should eat your vegetables, kiddo” Dean prodded, pointing at the nearly untouched salad on Jesse’s plate with his fork.

“It’s yucky!” Came the petulant retort.

Sam bit his cheek from guffawing out loud, Dean himself had never favoured vegetables, always picking on Sam’s so called ‘Rabbit-food’; but now he was the one urging the young Anti-Christ to choose the healthier dietary options from the meagre choices on the diner menu. Naturally, he’d had to concede by ordering a salad for himself as well in an effort to serve as a good role model for the boy. Sam cheered inwardly; _at least this would make Dean less likely to suffer from the inevitable cardiac problems that he had been heading for with his usual ‘heart-attack on a plate’ meals._

Besides this was just another one of the myriad improvements Sam had noticed. Lately, Dean swore less too; doing his best to curb his colourful vocabulary; even while taunting the monster-of-the-week, if Jesse was within earshot. It would appear Dean _was_ doing everything in his power to raise the kid right. Not that it surprised Sam; Dean _always_ took his responsibilities seriously.

“I know” Dean agreed, “but they’re good for you, Champ. I mean, you _do_ wanna grow up big and strong like Sam, right?”

_Holy shit, Dean was praising him? Had the Sun risen from the west today?_

“And I’ll let you in on a secret...” Dean continued, oblivious, “See when we were kids, Sammy here always ate his vegetables. Me? Not so much, in fact; I used to give him my portions too, when I could successfully sneak it into his plate without Dad noticing”

Sam smiled, remembering Dean doing exactly what he was describing.

“At that point I didn’t know how good vegetables are for you”

“Is that why Sam’s taller than you?”

Dean nodded, “isn’t that right; Sammy?”

_No, it isn’t... your growth was stunted because you skipped entire meals to ensure that I didn’t have to!_

Outwardly he forced a smile to his face, “that’s true; Jesse”

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

Sam watched as Dean dived for the bed, landing hard enough on the mattress to make him bounce. Jesse giggled at the elder’s antics while Dean let out a contented sigh, sprawling on the scratchy motel sheets like it was Egyptian cotton.

“God, it’s good to be _me_ again!”

“I like you better like this too” The boy piped up.

Sam bit back a smile, it was true, he supposed; atrophying muscle and arthritic joints could not have been a picnic; but strangely, he had _liked_ finding out what his big brother would look like as a senior citizen.

“What?” Dean asked.

Sam shook his head.

“No, c’mon on; you look like a cat that swallowed a canary. So out with it! What’re you thinking?”

Sam shrugged.

“Sammy-” Dean whined in his best wheedling tone, eliciting a laugh from the seven year old.

The younger Winchester sighed. And gave up “I didn’t mind having you with silver hair”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, “Well” he drawled, drawing out the word, “Never knew you had a geriatric kink, Sammy”

Sam blushed, “Dean!” he hissed, “innocent ears”

Dean frowned, but sobered.

“It’s just-” Sam sighed, “It’s just, it was nice to think that atleast one of us had survived this mess, Dean. I mean, we both know that Hunters don’t die of old age; but to see you all silver haired and wrinkled; it was like... like you had made it. I liked that”

Dean didn’t reply; but from the hint of a smile gracing his brother’s lips, he got the feeling that Dean understood.

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

“I’m not going to school- you _can’t_ make me!”

Sam winced at the high pitched wail. Sending up a silent prayer for patience he tried once again. “Come on, Jesse...school’s fun. You’ll get to learn new things. You’ll-” he paused as Dean walked in.

His brother took a second to survey the situation, even as he effortlessly picked up the seven year old who promptly buried his face against Dean’s neck. “Don’t make me, please?”

Dean grinned, flopping down on a chair with the kid in his lap. “O-keey... what nefarious plan has Sammy come up with now, huh?”

Sam sighed. Sometimes- like _now_ for instance; he hated it that Dean always got to be the ‘good guy’ while he was, _permanently,_ in his opinion,stuck in the role of ‘bad’ guy.

“He wants me to go to _school_!”  Somehow, Jesse made ‘school’ sound like a torture chamber.

Sam glared when Dean’s face automatically wrinkled up at the mention of school.

“Does he have to, Sammy? I mean, come on- the kid had a point; with the amount of moving around that we do, he’ll never be able to just _fit in, ya’know_?”

“Dean!”

“No, I’m serious... You _do_ remember how much you hated it, don’t you? Adjusting to a new school every time we moved?” He shifted the kid to the couch as he made his way across to Sam.

“Plus you’ll save all that money this way and-”

“Stay out of this!” Dean growled, instantly silencing the boy.

Sam looked tiredly between the two of them, “So, basically what you’re saying is that school is too much of a hassle and you’d rather Jesse stays _illiterate_?” He could not hide the disappointment in his tone.

“Hell no!” Dean denied vehemently. “I’m not saying no to _education_ , Sammy... just- just school.”

Sam shot a confused look at his brother as he headed to fetch beer- this conversation was too frustrating to deal with while he was sober.

Dean rubbed a hand against his neck- a nervous tick he’d failed to overcome, “Well, I was thinking more along the lines of home-schooling, you know? I mean, you earned yourself a free-ride to Stanford; teaching the kid should be easy compared to that, right? And I- well, I’ll help where I can, the science and maths, possibly... We- we could ensure that he gets tested regularly to ascertain that he’s not falling behind... That should work, don’t you think?”

Sam stared at his brother. Dean had obviously thought this out, and to his surprise; he found that-at least in theory, the idea was way more practical than forcing Jesse to a different school every time they moved. “It would also stop him from being subjected to a different syllabus at every school.”

Dean beamed, “Exactly!”

By now, Sam had warmed to the idea significantly, “And we could incorporate Latin and lore into his studies.”

Dean grinned at him, turning to face Jesse who was scowling up at both of them.” What do you think, champ?”

“But- But this means I’ll _still_ have to study!” he whined.

Dean ruffled his hair, “Not getting out of that one, kid... but hey, atleast you don’t have to go to school.”

The seven-year old pouted.

The elder Winchester sighed, crouching down so he could be at the same level as the boy, “I’m serious, Jesse. We do this _only_ and only if you co-operate, okay? The first instance of you trying to escape your academics and I’ll haul you to the nearest school I can find. And trust me when I tell you that I’ll- well, neither of us will, actually; accept a grade lower than an ‘A’, clear?”

Sam watched, delighted, as the boy agreed. He found himself wishing half-heartedly that the kid responded to him the way he did to Dean, but then he was glad that atleast _one_ of them inspired that kind of reaction from the boy who was supposed to be the _anti-Christ._

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

The first time Jesse called Dean ‘Dad’, it was at some non-descript diner in response to their waitress’ advice that he consult with his father before deciding his meal. Jesse simply nodded and turned to Dean, “Dad?”

And whether Dean was too startled to react any other way or not, he only looked up from his own menu, “Yeah, Champ?”

“Can I have the chocolate milkshake with my burger?”

The eldest Winchester nodded, “Sure.”

For a minute Sam thought he had missed some significant conversation earlier in the day ‘cause till last night Jesse had still been using their names. But then he caught his brother’s wide-eyed gaze and realized that he had been as shocked at the sudden title as Sam.

 And for all the upheaval he had caused, Jesse continued to be blissfully unaware- swinging his legs happily as he munched on his burger. It was only when Dean rushed through his own meal and stalked out without a word that he clued into the fact that something was amiss.

“Did I do something wrong?”

And Sam’s heart clenched as he realized the depth of adoration that this boy held for big brother. In some ways, it reminded him of his own childhood when he had believed Dean to be a ten-foot tall, invincible hero.

 He shook his head.

“Should I not call him that?”

Sam ducked his head, allowing his bangs to hide his wet eyes, “No, its-its fine.  ...I think he was just surprised.”

“But he looks mad.”

He glanced out of the window to watch Dean slumped over the steering of the Impala and realized that his brother was having a private freak-out. Only, the kid sitting across took it to mean something else entirely and was now terrified of the idea that he had disappointed his idol.

“No, I can promise you, Jesse, that Dean’s not mad...but why don’t you ask him when he comes back? Yeah?”

The boy nodded sagely, “Okay.”

“What, I don’t get a title?” Sam asked, hoping to infuse some levity into the situation.

Jesse shook his head seriously, “You already have one.”

“I do?” He was honestly surprised.

The child nodded, taking another sip of his milkshake before he replied, “You’re Dean’s Sammy.”

Sam could only nod- _he had never thought about it that way, but he guessed that childhood nickname described him better than just about anything else._

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

Sam sat silently and fumed, resting his head against the Impala’s window and watching the scenery go by. Furious that Dean had released the sprinklers to let the Trickster go ( _What? he couldn’t deal with him being another angel at the moment, sue him_ )

Seeing the infuriating- _and apparently (nearly)immortal_ creature had brought back the memories of watching Dean die on all those Tuesdays and then finally again on that fateful Wednesday.  And even if Dean could find it in himself to forgive the bastard, Sam _couldn’t_.

“So are you a Transformer now?” A young voice piped up, breaking into his thoughts.

Out of the corner of his eyes he watched Dean bite back a grin.

As exhausted and mentally weary they usually got after a hunt, having a kid trailing after them generally had them pulling out of their funk a lot faster than they normally did. And it was precisely because of this ability of the child to see the lighter side of most situations.

“Uh- no... I’m not a transformer” Sam managed to answer after a moment.

“But it was so cool! You turned into the Impala!” The boy declared.

“Yeah, yeah it was” He agreed, not voicing that it felt incredibly reassuring to have Dean’s competent hands _handling_ him- _which, yeah Dirty-Bad-Wrong when phrased like that;_ but true. He wondered if he would have emerged as unscathed if someone else had been driving him.

Besides, it had soothed something in him to know that both Dean and the kid were more or less safe while _inside_ him ( _Jesus, but that sounded filthy even in his mind!_ ); like anything trying to get at them would have to go through him. Literally

And Sam liked being the protector.

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

 “And for dessert, if you could please get us some of your blueberry pie and that smile of yo- yeouw!” Dean glared at his adopted son who had just kicked him in the shin. _Hard_

The boy glared right back before he glanced up at the waitress with a cold look, “Three slices of the blueberry pie.” At the raised eyebrow from Sam he added a grudging ‘Please’ before pointedly staring at her until she left.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” The eldest Winchester asked, still rubbing the place where Jesse’s sneakered foot had connected with his leg.

“Why do you _do_ that?”

Dean’s eyebrows jumped, “Do what, kiddo?”

“Flirt” The boy spat out the word like it was something vile.

Sam couldn’t hold back his snicker, nearly spewing the gulp of coffee that he had just swallowed.

“Sammy put you up to this?” Dean enquired shrewdly.

“I wouldn’t!”

“He didn’t!”

Both objections were simultaneous and loud enough to garner looks from the next table. Dean disregarded them in favour of narrowing his eyes.

“Okay, son... Spill, what’s _really_ bothering you?”

Jesse mimicked Dean’s narrow eyed-exasperated face perfectly as he faced off with the older hunter, “you are”

“Ha ha, Very funny” Dean’s bland delivery making it evident that it wasn’t, he paused, glancing up to thank the waitress when she got their dessert; but staying alert enough to catch the sneakered heel when Jesse’s foot came up in a predictable move. He glowered at the boy, “Seriously Jesse, stop”

The foot was released with a warning squeeze, but the child looked back unrepentantly. Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing as he took a bite of the pie; the favoured dessert somehow not managing to lift his spirits like usual. “Do you still believe in cooties, Kid? Is _that_ the problem?”

“No, but you _shouldn’t_ flirt” The boy whined.

Dean shot an amused look towards his brother before refocusing on the child, “Why?”

“Because you’re _with_ Sam!” The answer spoken like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dean choked on his bite. Sam spluttered.

Jesse looked calmly between them.

“We’re not together like that, kid. We- we’re brothers” Sam eventually gathered enough wits to explain.

“So?”

“So it’s _wrong-_ ” Dean tried to explain.

“But that’s stupid” The child exclaimed.

Sam looked at Dean his expression reflecting his confusion.

_How on earth does one explain the concept incest to a seven-year old?_

Dean shrugged before dropping a handful of twenties on the table and rising.

“It's not,” He held up a finger to ward of any further ‘whys’; “And I’m _not_ explaining. So this discussion, as fun as it was, ends here... Clear?”

The little Anti-Christ’s lips turned down but he nodded his acceptance, “Clear”

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

It was four days after losing Ellen and Jo that Dean realized that the youngster in their care had gone quiet.

Again

Both he and Sam were nursing beers, staring with unseeing eyes at the television (which he now noticed was playing some animated movie-with the sound switched off). While Jesse sat tucked into the corner of the couch, knees drawn to his chest as he watched the TV.

Rubbing a hand through the scratchy stubble on his face he shifted closer to the boy, “Hey”

_God, but even his voice sounded hoarse with disuse._

Jesse lifted his head, staring at him with a look so hopeful that it hurt something terrible to watch that childish face, “Hi”

Out of the corner of his eyes he could make out Sam stirring to watch them too.

“How’re you doing, kiddo?”

“I’m ok.” A whisper, then “How are _you?”_

Dean shrugged, “Alive”

Sam flinched at the unintentional reminder.

Jesse reached out a hesitant hand to lay it flat on Dean’s knee, “I miss them”

Sam closed his eyes. He wondered what it said about them that a seven-year old kid who should not even _know_ about these things was trying to comfort them.

“So do we, Champ” Dean whispered, voice broken like he’d been gargling glass.

“I liked Aunt Jo.”  
“Yeah?”

The boy nodded earnestly, “She gave me candy”

“Oh?” A little insignificant reaction, but it was the best Dean could do under the circumstances.

“I think she liked you”

“I hope so”

“No, I mean she liked you like _that”_ Jesse explained, “I told her she couldn’t have you”

Dean’s eyebrows curved up, “I thought you liked her, Kiddo?”

“Yeah, but you’re with Sammy”

Sam let out a little groan, “Did’ya tell her that, Jesse?”

Jesse gave a vehement nod, “Of course”

“Oh God” Sam buried his head in his hands, realising that the Harvelle women probably thought them guilty of incest.

And now they would never be able to tell them anything different.

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

“Excuse me” Sam heard the brunette mutter as she bumped into Dean trying to reach the soft toy on a shelf too high for her to reach.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean assured, looking up at the toy she’d been attempting to pull down and quirking an eyebrow, “Need any help?”

“If you could kindly-” She gestured at the doll.

“No problem” Dean answered, retrieving the stuffed tiger with ease, “Here you go”

The younger brother understood a wedding-band check when he saw one and the diminutive figure accepting the toy was definitely giving his brother one.  Realizing it had been a while since Dean actually went out, given how they rarely hit the bars anymore because of the child accompanying them and deciding he should perhaps give his brother a chance to _score_ if he could, he moved to the aisle stocking men’s wear since their clothes stock had definitely diminished given the way they had had to discard things after hunts every so often lately.

Only it appeared his alone moving away hadn’t helped Dean any because Jesse had finally made his choice on what toy he wanted and immediately run to his brother with a loud yell of ‘Dad, I want this one’

Even though he was in the opposite aisle, he could clearly see Dean’s cheeks turn pink at Jesse’s obvious way of staking his claim. He continued to watch, amused; when instead of backing away, the woman only got a wider smile on her face. He wasn’t exactly sure but saw her lips move in something along the lines of ‘you have an adorable son’. The adults continued talking and apparently the kid got tired of waiting around, so he joined Sam in picking ties for their ‘ _official’_ outfits.

Except, it turned out the boy was more devious than either Winchester had anticipated.

 _Maybe the kid was the Anti-Christ for a reason_ ; Sam thought uncharitably; as the Jesse plucked a moss green tie he’d been questioning Sam about _(‘Don’t you think this matches dad’s eyes perfectly?)_ from the holder and rushed back to Dean announcing ‘Sammy says this _com-plea-meant-s_ your eyes, Daddy. Can we get this for you? Will you wear it? Will you? Will you?’ loud enough to turn heads towards them.

This time he could clearly make out the woman asking Dean about ‘ _Sammy’_ , but before the elder Winchester could lay her suspicions to rest, the scheming little devil pressed against Dean’s side promptly told her that ‘ _Sammy is Dad’s partner’_.

Dean’s face turned an odd shade of red as he stared at the innocently smiling child.

 _Innocent, my foot!_ Sam thought to himself; although a part of him wondered if it would be that bad... after all both he and Dean had proved time and again that all either cared about was the other. And now, possibly the child as well...

Guessing from the colour rising in her face, the woman translated that to mean exactly what Jesse was implying.

And naturally, he himself had a hand in making matters worse because he had unthinkingly followed Jesse when the boy ran off with the tie and now the child jerked his chin at him to ensure that the woman was watching before running to his arms squealing ‘Sammy!’

His only other option was to let the child collide with his legs, so he crouched and accepted the boy who promptly jumped to his arms.

Dean was still staring wide-eyed at his adopted son when the woman- obviously flustered; made her excuses and disappeared into the crowd.

Neither brother said another word as they completed their purchases.

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

Sam slid back into the car, sighing in relief at having his own body again; answering Dean’s questions absently as he contemplated the fact that Dean had taken so long to realise that it wasn’t him when he’d required about two point oh seconds back when Meg had possessed him. Admittedly the demon had been a little more flamboyant than the teenage punk dabbling in witchcraft; and given how the parents hadn’t flinched in surprise at the shit that had been coming out of their _son’s_ mouth, it was possible that an undetectable charm had been a part of the body swap spell.

If that were true, then he was lucky to have Dean with him instead of back in hell-getting tortured as hell’s most wanted.

It took them nearly reaching the motel to figure out the flaw in his logic _unless..._

_No, Dean wouldn’t be sitting so calmly next to him if that had been the case. But..._

“Dean, where’s Jesse?”

“Safe” was the curt answer.

 _“Safe_...?”

“I put him in the adjoining room the moment I realized you had gotten your sorry ass possessed again- By a freaking _teenager_!”

“You knew?”

Dean grumbled, “I figured it out soon enough”

“So Gary-?” He left the question hanging.

“Never even saw Jesse.”

“Thank God” He uttered, heartfelt.

“You just thought of the kid now, didn’t you?”

Sam’s shoulders immediately straightened defensively, “Well yeah, Dean... In case you missed; I’d just been told that my _brother_ had a bounty on his head and that a kid wearing _my face_ was about to toast him-”

“About that-” Dean interrupted, “Could you arrange it so that the next time something decides to wear your pretty face, it doesn’t pull a gun in mine? It’s getting a little old”

Sam let out a half-hearted chuckle, if Dean was already joking; it couldn’t be too bad, “I’ll try, jerk”

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

Sam quirked a curious eyebrow when Dean finally let himself into the room, “You sent Jesse back in early”

“Yeah”, his brother sighed, “It was either that or take him over my knee”

Sam’s mouth opened in a soft exhale of surprise; usually Dean had the patience of a saint when dealing with a child. “What did he do?”

“Kid asleep?” Dean asked, trying to divert the question.

“Yes, he fell asleep awhile ago. Now tell me, what did he do to get you riled up this time?”

Dean frowned; _trust Sam to keep asking till he figured things._ “Tried to pimp you out to me”  
“Huh,” Sam was at a loss of what to say and _boy was he glad not to have heard how that went. And no wonder Dean was pissed._

The elder scrubbed a hand across his face, smearing a line of grease along his jaw; “Seriously man, I’m getting tired of his match-making campaign”

“He’s just trying to stake his claim on you”

“And how the-” Dean paused, ostensibly to keep the expletive from spilling out, “How do you figure that, _genius_?”

“I think he’s afraid of being tossed away if you decide to settle with someone”, Sam theorised.

“Huh” Dean pondered o’er his words, “And he views you as safe?”

Sam shrugged, “Well, we have been raising him together... sort of”

“So... it doesn’t bother you- the... uh- the insinuations?”

Sam thought for a moment before answering, “Can I ask you something without you throwing a fit?”

Dean nodded.

“What bothers you more- the guy thing or the brother thing?”

Dean scowled, marching into the bathroom and slamming the door.

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

 “Do you want me to cut the sides on your PB and-” the words died on Sam’s lips as the words replayed in his head in a distinctly feminine tone. Choking, he tried to will away the tears but that only made them come faster, blurring his vision and forcing him to abandon preparing the sandwiches.

Unsurprisingly, Dean caught on to what was happening and took the plate from him; swiftly trimming the sides of the bread that were the bane of every child and handed over the plate to Jesse with a soft request to give the two of them some privacy.

Sam waited till he heard the door close behind the youngster, the soft snick of the automatic lock confirming his departure before opening his mouth, “Mom-”

The elder brother’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but the hands turning him were gentle, coaxing. A callused thumb brushed softly over the purpling bruise where Dean had punched him the night before once he got over the relief. Sam gave a watery smile as the muted twinge from Dean’s finger over the bruise reminded him of his brother’s fury at Sam having asked their mom to make Dean an only child. Right now, his brother’s expression was understanding though... sympathetic even; and when Dean tugged on his head, he moved willing- burrowing against the older man’s neck. Smelling the familiar scent of sweat mixed with the spicy tang of his after-shave.

“ImissHer” he mumbled, grateful at not having to look into the perceptive green gaze while he confessed to what had started the waterworks.

“I know, kiddo; I know.” A hand combed through his hair, carefully undoing the snarls before continuing on their way, “I knew this was going to hit you hard...”

Sam pulled back at that, hearing the self-recrimination in the tone and wanting to reassure Dean; “I don’t regret it”

The older man smiled sadly, manoeuvring him to the bed as he pushed him to sit, “Hungry?”

The younger shook his head, “Nah, not really- my stomach’s not feeling too cooperative at the moment”

Dean chuckled, “Travelling by Air Angel will do that to you”

Sam nodded, grateful that Dean hadn’t brought up him dying once again. Although the tiny furrow between the older brother’s eyes told him that he hadn’t forgotten.

“You- you ne’er did the sides on my sandwiches” He didn’t mean to sound accusing, but he was honestly curious; after all Dean _had_ tried to keep as many traditions alive as he could- Sam could remember his brother humming ‘Hey Jude’ to him when he had been a kid; but given how side-trimmed sandwiches were a part of every mother’s arsenal, he couldn’t understand why Dean hadn’t done that too. Maybe he had forgotten?

His big brother shook his head fondly- _should have known Sam would be eavesdropping on his conversation with Mary;_ “I wasn’t allowed to. Dad had a strict ‘no-knives’ policy-”

“He took you weapon’s training when you’d been six... seven!” Sam objected

Dean nodded, smiling wryly, “Yeah, guns... knives came a little later- Dad wasn’t too comfortable with teaching me close-combat skills... for the most part, I was under orders to take you and run if things came to that. And even after he’d started teaching me about our hunting knives, I still wasn’t allowed to use ‘em in the kitchen”

“That’s stupid” Sam muttered, although his chest felt funny as he realized how very _young_ Dean had been at the time. When he thought of their childhood, he mostly remembered Dean like he was now- cocky and confident; a larger than life figure... but although he _had_ been bigger than him till late into their teens, it was only now that he realized that his big brother could not have been more than a child himself- even if he’d carried himself differently.

His brother didn’t argue, nodding in agreement as he explained, “Dad was of the opinion that in fights, the sharp edge was pointed away from me...us, so that was- well, not- not _ideal_...but acceptable I guess, however in the kitchen, my fingers would be too close to the stuff I would be chopping and that was more than what he was willing to risk. Vegetables were usually stored already chopped and diced, so that I could use them at will without risking injury. Bread... not so much.”

Sam shook his head, their father had been _trying_ \- looking through adult eyes, it was plain as day; a part of him wished he’d understood that when he’d been younger. It was even more believable especially now that he’d met a young John Winchester, _before_ Azazeal screwed with their family and broke the man.

“By the time I could handle knives without worrying about censure from Dad, it was too late. You were old enough not o grumble about the sides, so I ne’er bothered. Sorry”

Sam looked up, not knowing how to answer that, so he changed the topic- “She really loved us, didn’t she?” Remembering the awe and _love_ on her face when she’d looked up and realized who they actually were. Mary had even cooed over Jesse, accepting him as the grandson she would never get a chance to pamper. True, they had not told her that Jesse was adopted; but really that had been beside the point.

“That she did” Dean agreed with a smile, “She would play the most ridiculous games with us. And baked... God, her cookies had been amazing, wish you’d had a chance to try ‘em”

Sam nodded in agreement, seeing Mary had made her real. All these years she had just been an abstract sort of concept- despite having met her once in their old house when she’d sacrificed herself to protect them from the poltergeist; but he had never gotten this: The chance to actually talk to her and hear the soft lilt to her voice. Or the way the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Or the determination in the deep jade of her eyes when she tried to protect them again.

There were a thousand and one things he had missed growing up because she had died protecting him when he had been six months old.

But he had _not_ missed the gentle hands and soothing lullabies- sung not in her mellifluous tones but in the childish voice of his big brother as he was tucked into bed.

He may not remember climbing into her lap when he tripped and fell as a toddler; but he had not missed a caring touch when dealing with his childish cuts and scrapes.

He had missed home baked cookies and her guiding hand as he learnt to write on his own.

In their stead, he had had store-bought cookies and a patient big brother correcting and cheering him on as he learnt how to read by sounding out the words on old comic books. Said big brother had also always allowed him the last of the Lucky Charms- Even if he’d not had _any_ yet.

Neither had he missed having someone go over his homework to ensure there were no mistakes.

And he had not missed unconditional love either.

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

Sam waited with bated breath as the door opened to let Dean and Jesse in and the elder hunter sniffed the air with a puzzled look, “Dude, is that- Do I smell-”

“Pie!” Jesse finished with a blinding grin. It would appear that the youngster was going to grow up into quite the pie-lover under Dean’s tutelage.

The younger brother was saved from answering by the oven’s timer going off at that instant. He bit back a smile as two matching sets of awed wonder watched him retrieve the pie-dish from the oven- for once they’d opted to stay at a place which offered a functional-if tiny kitchenette and Sam had decided to make the most of it.

Given the number of losses they had suffered lately, he felt it was time to do something uplifting for a change.

And going by the huge grin on his brother’s face; it had been the right call.

 He watched, waiting for judgement on his first-ever pie; but if he had to make a guess, the fact that the smiles had remained intact while his two pie-lovers tasted his dish, he would say he was safe.

“It’s like Aunt Karen’s pie!” Jesse declared- a huge complement, considering the woman had been a whiz at baking.

Sam felt his smile slip, “I got the recipe from her.”  He admitted quietly, remembering the enthusiastic help he had received from Bobby’s resurrected wife when he had confessed his plan to learn to prepare his brother’s (And their son’s, going by the joyous exclamations from the youngster) favourite dessert.

He saw the acknowledging flame of pain/guilt flare up in his brother’s eye as he accepted the confession with a barely perceptible nod before it was subdued, “It tastes amazing, Sammy”

He smiled his thanks but was taken aback by the wet (and slightly gross, if he was honest- since he could feel the sticky imprint of the pie-filling) kiss on his cheek planted by his son in appreciation. He refrained from using the back of his hand to wipe at the sticky sensation and watched with amusement as their son stared at Dean with a raised eyebrow.

He didn’t follow the silent exchange, but then Dean was sighing and rising out of his seat to lay a gentle ( _and chaste_ ) peck on his forehead; taking him back to when he was a baby and bedtime meant his brother’s dry lips pressing against the top of his head as he whispered ‘goodnight’. However his surprise lasted only for a fraction of a second and he had a sudden vision of himself halting Dean’s retreat by grabbing at his wrist and hauling him back for a proper kiss.

But the moment passed.

And his brother pulled back to reclaim his seat and finish his pie. It didn’t take long.

“Do I need to kiss you again if I want a second serving?” Dean asked- his expression completely serious.

“Wha-” Sam started to question before understanding bloomed and he stared down at the joyful bold yellow scrawl announcing ‘ _KISS THE COOK’_ on the apron he was had forgotten to take off. He laughed, shaking his head and pushed the entire dish across the table to whoops of joy.

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

Sam watched, slightly taken aback as Dean led the boy out by the cuff of his collar, pushing him ahead of himself with a glower. Shutting the trunk after stowing their luggage, he could only gape when Dean let Jesse go with a slight shove. Reacting instinctively, he caught the stumbling youngster, visually checking him over for injuries even as he raised questioning eyes towards his brother, “ _Christo_ ”

If anything, Dean’s expression soured even more at that; “Wow, that’s amazing... my son misbehaves and I get checked for signs of demonic possession for getting angry!”

Sam frowned, sure; he had seen Dean furious, irate even; but he had never seen him with this kind of repressed rage. “What happened?”

“Get in the car” The older Winchester growled out, slamming the door shut in an uncharacteristic act of fury vent on the Impala.

They had barely hit the road leading away from the motel’s driveway when Sam realized he needed to start this particular conversation, “Okay, I’m guessing Jesse said something?” he ventured hesitantly.

Dean nodded jerkily, “Got into an altercation with the receptionist”

Sam’s eyebrows jumped in surprise, “Why? I mean... she wasn’t possessed or something; was she?” he asked hopefully.

“A tad over-friendly...” Dean sighed, “And she may have hinted at giving me a _personal_ tour of the sights ‘round town...” the downward tilt to his lips telling Sam what he thought of her offer, “but no, not possessed, not a skin-walker or a even a witch. A bona-fide human; if an annoying one”

 “Huh”

“Kid called her a bitch” Dean added, some of his anger returning at the memory.

“What! Why?”

“You call Sam a bitch all the time!” A petulant voice protested from the backseat.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, privately envious of Dean who was driving and hence had his hands too occupied to slap the kid.

“Which you know is not a good word, kiddo.” Dean shot back, adding “And don’t try to deny it, ‘cause I know you wouldn’t have used it otherwise” when Jesse opened his mouth to object.

“Besides, I’ve known Sammy all his life, Champ. Us calling each other names is a game. You can’t go calling people names just like that. It’s rude. And shows terrible manners-”

“Dean-” Sam interrupted

The elder brother paused, quirking an eyebrow.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to him. You’re an adult. He’s – Well, what he did was... _is_ wrong and he needs to learn to understand that”

“We’ve told him that before, remember? Somehow, words don’t seem to be getting through, though” Dean murmured, and if Sam had to describe his brother’s tone, he could only call it sad-or _disappointed_.

“Then we need to take stronger action” Sam’s voice was firm, and brooked no arguments.

Dean risked a glance away from the road to throw him a look, “What’re you suggesting?”

“Punishment”

A fleeting look in the rear-view confirmed that the boy was following their conversation with rapt attention.

“But- but I apologised, Sammy!”

“ _On your own_?”  For once ignoring the use of the nickname

The boy’s expression fell, “Dad made me”

Sam nodded, he had expected as much.

“So...?” Dean prodded after a moment.

“I think it’s time we take a page out of Dad’s book on parenting. No cartoons...or TV of any kind-” he added, realising it was better not to leave any loopholes, “for a fortnight. And we step up his training”

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

“You hear that?” Roy asked, uneasy now that he was faced with the two corpses of the Winchester brothers.

“Yeah...”

Both men swung around when the bathroom door opened, guns ready to fire; only to face a teary-eyed seven year-old.

“What’re you doing here, kid?” Walt questioned roughly; frowning at the presence of a child in the Winchester’s room.

“Daddy?” The child called, staring at the beds where the deceased brothers lay.

“Shit, Winchester had a kid?” Walt cursed.

“Dean or Sam?” Roy shot back.

“Does it matter?” the barrel of the gun lowered slowly till it was trained on the sniffling child.

“Y’er not gonna _kill_ a _child! Are you?”_

“He’s a Winchester; and trust me man... you don’t wanna be on the path of an avenging Winchester. I heard they ripped Gordon limb to limb ‘coz the man dared to voice what the rest of us were thinking.”

“Dean?”                         

“Sam”

“Always a freak... demon blood guzzling; Devil-releasing bastard!”

“Don’t talk about him like that!”

Both men grinned at the sudden protest from the boy.

“Hear that, Roy? Kid’s got balls”

Roy sniggered. “Winchester after all”                                                                                                         

“Why don’t you come with us, son-?”

“I’m not your son!” The lad interrupted.

Walt grabbed hold of one slender upper-arm and shook the child viciously; “You’re whatever we choose to call you. Understand, Boy?”

Tears welled up in the child’s eyes as he shook his head furiously, “No; let go of me! Daddy!”

“Shit, he’s going to get us in trouble.”

Walt clamped a hand over the child’s mouth; muffling his screams of ‘Dad’.

“Let’s get outta here.”

“Good call” Walt muttered as he bundled the struggling minor into the trunk of his car.

 

Roy felt slightly guilty as he and Walt ate their dinner without offering any to Winchester’s boy. The child was strapped to a chair using simple rope knots, but his struggles had tightened them till they were cutting into his tender skin. Once, he’d gotten up to try and soothe the minor; but Walt had stopped him, saying they needed to be firm if they were to _train_ him.

“ _Like they train elephants in Thailand_ ” were Walt’s exact words. At his uncomprehending expression, he’d explained that baby elephants were secured to a firmly planted spike or tree trunks... so, by the time they grew up into massive beasts; the idea that it was impossible to get free of the rope that bound them was so ingrained that they didn’t even try. So adults could be tied to a small pike which, in their infinite strength shouldn’t have been a handicap for the elephant; but the childhood lesson of being unable to get free till their _mahout_ freed them was too deeply instilled in the elephants for them to attempt a break for freedom.

He glanced at the boy currently slumped in his bonds; the skin around his wrists looked painful with its rope abrasions. There were tear tracks on his cheeks (the baby fat still there as if Winchester hadn’t wanted to train him for the hunt; not like his own Dad had)- one side still pink and hot to touch where Walt smacked him; but the boy is eerily quiet, as though he’s waiting for something.

 He doesn’t like it.                                                                                    

It makes him nervous for some reason.

Reminds him of Dean’s warning that he was ‘ _going to be pissed’_ when he ‘ _came back’_

 

He was brought back to the present by Walt’s furious growl of ‘ _Y’er gonna eat whatever we give you and be grateful for it, boy... Now swallow!’_

Roy turned just in time to watch in horrified fascination as the kid spit the little bit of grape juice his partner had forced into his mouth right back at Walt. He was unable to help the snort which escaped him at the boy’s bravado.

“Kid’s a Winchester alright” He softened his tone, “What’s your name, Boy?”

The boy pursed his lips, refusing to answer.

“And he’s gonna end just like his Daddy unless he learns to behave!” was the furious rejoinder from his partner.

 Fresh tears spilled out of the boy’s eyes at the reminder. Walt smirked, pulling out his gun and tracing the baby-soft jaw with the muzzle, “Remember how I blew chunks right outta your father, kid? Well, I’m gonna do the same to you unless you learn some manners pronto”

A whimper escaped from the child, even trying as hard as he was to be brave and be his father’s son; he was after all a boy- a scared little boy and the tears attested to that fact.

“Now, let’s try this again, your name?”

“Je-Jesse”

“See, now that wasn’t so bad; was it?”

The boy remained stubbornly quiet.

A backhand caught Jesse on his already abused cheek again, “When I ask you something, you answer me; Boy!”

A lower lip trembled and more tears leaked out of him at the blow, but thankfully he didn’t start bawling; “No, sir”

Walt looked up and smirked, “See, still train-able”

Roy shook his head, “He’s just a kid, Walt”

“So?”

“Shouldn’t we... I dunno... go easy or something?”

“He’s a Winchester, Roy” Walt growled, “And I intend to beat it out of him”

“My Daddy will save me” The boy whispered, eyes scrunched tight as though he was talking to almost to himself; trying to convince himself that there was escape.

Walt tapped his fingers against the child’s head, “I _killed_ your Daddy, kid. Shot him DEAD. Comprende?”

And maybe Walt’s fury aimed at the sniffling child had distracted them; but when their door bust open a minute later to reveal Sam and Dean standing shoulder to shoulder; they were completely unprepared.

Dean marched in, stomping across the demolished door like he could barely see it; and even though they had heard more than enough about the elder Winchester’s protective streak when it came to his family; had even worked with him years ago on a hunt or two; they were still surprised by the dark anger emanating from the hunter. It was a sight to behold; and had they not been worried about their lives, they maybe could have even appreciated the economy of his fluid, graceful movement- like some Angel of fury come down on earth.

And Sam stepped in behind him, guarding his unprotected back; complementing his brother’s movements with perfect harmony such that between them there were no chinks in the armour; standing like an impenetrable fortress at the door that they would have to breach if they wanted to survive.

Roy shivered.

Dean opened his mouth, “Where’s Je-”

His sentence was interrupted by the boy’s joyful shout, “Dad!”                                 

_Huh, so that answered the question as to which Winchester had sired the kid._

Dean’s attention immediately whipped to his son; eyes taking in the hand-shaped bruise on the boy’s cheek without comment; but his gun lifted another inch as he waved it at Walt, “Move”

It was slightly intimidating, really; the way they waved around guns-loaded, functional guns as though they were toys. His partner’s expression was stricken, Roy noticed with some detachment; mouth opening and closing like a fish.

If possible Dean’s voice went down another couple of octaves, barely discernable from a growl now, “I said _move_ ”

“But-but you’re dead! We killed you!”

“About that-” Sam interrupted, “It would appear heaven thinks we’re too important for the moment to be allowed to die.” His tone was almost conciliatory, disparaging as though being considered ‘important’ by Heaven was a bad thing. He gave a mirthless chuckle as he added, “It’s not like I didn’t try when I realised what I’d done”

Dean’s shoulder went rigid- it would appear that big brother wasn’t aware of his little brother’s _what-? Suicide attempt?_

Sam seemed to understand it as well, “It was after you’d refused to allow me back in”

Dean sighed, “Sammy-”

“Its fine, Dean... I told you I’ll do my best to rectify-”

“Was this _another one_ of your greatest hits, Sammy?” Dean interrupted, Roy wondered if the brothers were even aware of their presence, but he was too far from anything to use the situation to his advantage.

Walt, on the other hand, had no such qualms. He pressed the gun against the minor’s forehead, pressing till the boy let out a muffled squeak. Instantly Dean had refocused all his senses to the threat; even with a gun pressed to his son’s temple he didn’t seem cowed.

“You touch one hair on his head and I’ll end you!” he growled.

“Not before I put a hole through your son’s brain” Walt refuted, but Roy could see the fine tremors giving away his nerves.

Dean didn’t bother with a verbal reply; simply flicking off the safety of his gun.

“Dean, wait!”

The elder brother paused but his trigger finger never wavered. Sam’s own guns were trained on both of them and Roy didn’t know if the younger Winchester brother was ambidextrous or not; but he sure as hell didn’t want to find out this way.

“Walt, step away from Jesse, please” Sam requested, although the authority in his voice made it sound more like an order, “Now, Walt”

Apparently Walt realized the precariousness of the situation as well because he held up his gun-hand in a pacifying gesture and took a step to the side. A low growl which seemed to emanate from Dean’s throat had him freezing again.

“Dean, c’me on man; you don’t want Jesse to grow up knowing you murdered someone, do you? He respects you; don’t make him question that-”

“Done far worse things”                                                                                                        

“No; you haven’t alright? Hell doesn’t count, Dean. It doesn’t!”

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, (although his trigger finger didn’t relax; Roy noted) before nodding. The next instant all his focus was on the boy now squirming in his chair to be free. He pulled out a knife from his boot which sawed through the hemp rope like butter. Roy watched with a sick sense of dread as he never paused before cutting through the ropes; not really taking active measures against slicing his son’s skin accidently; but the boy didn’t even flinch- his trust in his father’s ability absolute.

A callused hand smoothed over the abrasions, checking for deeper injuries; and then a careful hand prodded the bruises littering the minor’s face. The boy winced, but didn’t shy away.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Wordlessly the boy rolled up his sleeve to reveal a purpling hand-shaped bruise where Walt had grabbed him to force him into the trunk of the car.

Dean’s lips thinned but he didn’t comment on the obvious rough handling his son had undergone; “Anything else?”

“Elephants” The boy’s whisper was surprisingly loud in the silent room.

“What?” Dean questioned; but judging from the way Sam had gone rigid; he would bet the younger brother had understood the boy’s cryptic comment.

“They said something about elephants”

The disengaging of the security of two guns simultaneously was unbearably loud in the room; Dean checked behind his shoulder to confirm if there was a new threat but having realized that it was only Sam he turned back to the boy.

“Take Jesse and leave, Dean; I’ll take care of these bastards”

The elder frowned, and Roy watched as he deliberately walked back to his brother; disregarding the loaded weapons as he pressed close to Sam, “Sammy?”

Watching them, Roy wondered if there was any truth to the rumours he had heard about the boys’ bond; it didn’t seem likely; and yet Dean was obviously using his physical proximity to calm his brother.

“They were planning to _train_ Jesse; treat him like an animal and _coerce_ him into submission; Dean-”

“Jesse respects you too, ya know?” Dean interrupted; his free hand brushing back Sam’s hair in a calming gesture.

And Roy could only blame temporary insanity because at that instant Walt lunged for the child again. Whether he thought the Winchesters were too distracted or thought the kid would deter them by acting like a bargaining chip, he didn’t know; but his instincts told him that Walt had just made a very costly mistake.

And he wasn’t wrong; Dean was on him before he had taken more than a single step; bringing him down on the hard floor with a practiced move. Before Walt could counter, Dean was perched on his back; twisting his arm behind his back in a way that was sure to disillusion any hopes of escape without causing serious self-injury.

“Walt,” Dean asked; his voice deceptively gentle; “Do I assume you both are responsible for the injuries on Jesse?”

Walt remained silent.

“Roy?” Dean questioned.

And call him a coward if you will, but Roy’s instincts for self-preservation were faultless; “Yes”

“Why?”

Sensing he was losing the fight Walt responded on his own this time, “He’d refused to answer me”

“Hmmm” Dean murmured, apparently satisfied; but in the next second he pressed down on trapped arm causing Walt to let out a howl of pain; “And am I correct to assume that _your_ fingerprints will match those of the injuries on the boy’s face and arm?” His tone was still deceptively conversational.

“Yea-Yeah”

“I’m sorry to hear that”

And with that Walt let out an anguished howl of pain which was only capped by the brittle snap of his bones as Dean dislocated his arm; “Don’t worry; it’s nothing permanent; and _nothing_ close to what I actually wanted to do to you chuckleheads; but consider this a warning, You touch my family again and I’ll make you regret it. Spread the word”

Dean dropped him then, and Walt immediately curled into a foetal position cradling his uselessly flopping arm. Roy glanced up and found the green eyes boring into him; “Do you want a reminder too; Roy?”

“N-No” he stammered out.

“Good”

And the Winchester’s swept out; calm as anything; the boy clinging like a monkey to his father’s neck.

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

Jesse had wordlessly climbed into Dean’s lap once they reached the car, forcing the older Winchester to relinquish the wheel. Sam had anticipated protest from his brother at not being allowed to drive but Dean had simply pulled the snivelling boy closer and slid across the bench seat to allow Sam to drive.

Even when they’d stopped at a dinner, Jesse remained stubbornly glued to the elder’s side, burrowing his head under Dean’s chin as he clung to him. For his part, Dean didn’t seem to be aware of or even mind the child’s arms wrapped around his neck like a monkey; feeding him off his own plate once the food had been neatly broken down into bite-sized portions. Jesse just moved his head far enough to accept a bite before hiding against his neck again. Dean rubbed soothing circles on his back, before trying to coax another spoon of the meal.

Sam shrugged his shoulder when their waitress cooed over how cute Dean looked with his _son_ in his arms, trying his best to remember why Dean hadn’t ever tried for a real family of his own.

They tucked the boy in together at night, promising to be there for him and to never leave him alone again. But when his eyes opened sometime after midnight to the sound of muffled whimpers, Dean was already moving to the next bed, picking up and soothing the child from his nightmares. Something clenched in his chest when the boy collapsed boneless-ly against his brother’s chest and Dean carried him back to their own bed, asking if he wanted to share with him for the night. And although he was bone weary himself, Sam managed to sit up and shift to vacated single bed when a soft murmur stopped him.

“Can’t Sammy sleep with us too?”

Dean simply looked at him, giving him the option of backing out if sharing the bed with his brother and adopted son bothered him. “You want me to?” He asked instead.

“Yes, please?”

Sam nodded, sliding back into his place, watching as Jesse grabbed a fistful of Dean’s night shirt in his hand before cuddling in close to his brother’s comforting warmth. He was about to relax back into his pillow on _his side_ of the bed when he a felt tiny hand feeling around until it latched on to his shirt sleeve as well. He scooted closer so that Jesse didn’t dislocate his arms in an attempt to keep them both close.

Finally satisfied, the child dropped off to sleep to the accompanying murmur of Dean humming ‘hey Jude’ under his breath as he stroked a hand over the fragile body tucked against his side. It took them a little longer, but eventually both brothers were forced to acknowledge the exhaustion weighing their bones as well.

 When Sam finally opened his eyes, dawn was filtering in softly through the motel curtains and he had to smile at the sight before him. Jesse was sprawled diagonally across the bed, head nestled still against Dean’s shoulder and an arm flung over his brother’s chest even as the fingers of his other hand clenched the material of Sam’s shirt. It took a few minutes before the rest of the scene finally registered in Sam’s mind:  his own head was pillowed on Dean’s arm and he too had an arm flung over his brother’s sleeping form. Dean for his part was curled protectively around the sleeping child even as his finger’s stretched towards Sam- guarding over those dear to him even in his slumber.

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

“Sam?” Dean’s voice was a plea, requesting him to try to drill some sense into the young Anti-Christ who’d once again tried his hand at match-making.

The only difference was that lately it had been growing harder and harder for Sam to refute the seven-year olds logic. He shook his head, “I kind-a want to know the answer myself, Dean.”

“Its- it’s not right!” The elder Winchester spluttered.

“Why not?”

Sam had to suppress the smile as Jesse stole the words from the tip of his tongue.

Dean jerked at the childish voice interrupting their conversation, “I’m not having this discussion in front of you, Jesse.” And in that moment he looked so much like Dad telling them that they need not know more than what they had been told that for a moment Sam had to look away. He watched as Dean guided the Impala away from the road and brought it to a smooth stop.

Dean glanced into the rear-view mirror; catching the boy’s eyes, “We’ll tell you whatever decision we arrive at, but for the moment I need you to stay in the car. Can you do that kiddo?”

He waited for the nod before turning to Sam, “Take a walk with me.”

For a long moment they simply stared out at the lake, neither willing to start _this_ conversation; ultimately Dean- always the one more prone to impatience took the bull by the horns. “Do you even _know_ what you’re asking for, Sam?”

“Of course I know!”

“This isn’t the normal that you’re looking for-”

“I figured out that _normal_ wasn’t for me awhile ago, Dean.”

“But this- you’ll be- we’ll be shunned if word of this ever got out. You’ll _never_ even get a _chance_ at normal if that happens.”

“I told you, I am over normal... have been, for a few years now.”

“It’s incest, Sammy.” Dean’s voice was quiet, and Sam recognized it for what it was- a last ditch attempt to convince him. It didn’t escape his notice that Dean never said that _he_ didn’t want it.

“Incest is taboo by society, Dean... and we’ve never followed society’s rules before, so why should we bother now?” A part of Sam couldn’t believe that he was actually saying all _this_ to his brother but it was like his tongue had a mind of its own. “And _don’t_  tell me that it’s illegal- we break far too many  laws for this to even count... and- and it’s not like we’re hurting anyone else-”

“And the fact that this is going to land you in hell doesn’t bother you?” Dean interrupted.

“I’ve got demon blood in my veins, dude... and I broke the final seal and started the god-damned apocalypse; I’m pretty sure I’m headed that way irrespective.”

“You’re really _really_ sure about this?” _Dean_ whispered, glancing up at him; and it wasn’t until that moment that Sam realized that they had been moving towards each other all along.

“I am.”

And he bent his head to brush his lips along his brother’s. Dean tipped his head up, granting him permission although he didn’t reciprocate the kiss. Sam felt his hands come up to rest at his brother’s hip and took the chance to gaze back into the shimmery green depths of his brother’s eyes.

And maybe for the first time in his life, Sam realized the depth of his brother’s devotion to him. Dean would never utter a word of protest- even in this... if he felt that Sam wanted it enough; and Sam- Sam couldn’t live with that.

“Do _you_ want this, Dean?”

Long lashes fluttered closed, hiding the emerald gaze from his eyes and Sam felt like someone had just ripped his heart out... _No wonder Dean had never said ‘no’... despite not wanting this-_

 _“I want this. Want you, Sammy.”_ The lashes opened again, revealing clear green eyes looked guilelessly back at him.

He sucked in a gulp of air.

“You’re not doing this just for me?”

His brother shook his head.

“Promise?” the word was a needy whisper between them...

Dean smiled, “Promise.”

And this time when their lips met, it was Dean who initiated the touch.

It was close-mouthed and chaste;  but the tender way in which Dean’s hands came up to cradle his head made it into one of the sweetest kisses Sam had been involved in. It was forever and the shortest second at the same time when they finally pulled apart. The older brother gazed into his eyes for a long moment before Dean cupped a hand behind Sam’s head, pulling him down so their temples could touch.

“Sammy-”

The hesitance in the tone had Sam stiffening, Dean understood- rubbing a soothing circle into his back as he formulated the words he needed to say.

“This- this has to be okay with Jesse, Sam.”

Sam smiled. It surprised him sometimes to realize that Dean was a ‘Dad’ now... even if the kid was not biologically his, his brother loved the boy as if he was. And Jesse held the same wide-eyed respect for the elder Winchester that Sam had held himself as a child. Given that Jesse was the one who had pushed them towards this; he doubted they needed to worry.

“Of course”

*

Sam’s hope hadn’t been misplaced. Jesse accepted the announcement without much ado. His only question was, “Do I get to call you Mommy, now?”

Sam spluttered.

Next to him, Dean guffawed.

_Jackass_

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

[WARNING: Attempted (implied) sibling incest in the following section. For those of you for whom this is a *squick*, please scroll down to the next section and you should be safe]

“Okay, new rule-” Sam murmured breathlessly, one hand smoothing over Dean’s jacket covered back; “No mentioning my Potty Training while we’re-”

Dean huffed out a laugh, whining ( _MEN don’t whine, Sammy!_ ) as he frowned in mock outrage; “Aww, c’me on! It’s funny!”

“No; it’s not! And it absolutely does NOT help, Dean! Not unless you were planning on nailing my ass even back then when I was in my diapers?” Sam waggled his eyebrows in what he hoped was a lascivious fashion.

“Ew, dude... Gross!” Dean complained before mostly sobering as the words sank in. “Not certain I wanna nail your ass even now, Sammy” He muttered darkly.

Sam froze, “What?”

“Feels too much like I’m taking _advantage_ of you and...I’m sorry...it’s just that I-I don’t think I can do it, Sammy”

“But-”

Dean shook his head, “Don’t wanna hurt you-”

“You won’t” Sam assured immediately, “I- uh, I mean yeah, it’s gonna hurt some; but from what I’ve _researched-”_ deliberately using the word to distract Dean _(You actually ‘researched’ gay sex, Sammy?)_ ; “it gets real good, real fast”

Dean remained unmoved, “Not always”

Sam raised an incredulous eyebrow, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but _that_ sounds suspiciously like you speaking from experience”

“It does?” Dean countered, not denying anything.

Sam felt his muscles go taut at the ambivalence in that statement, “What exactly are you saying, Dean? You’ve done this before- _With ...with a guy_?”

“What if I have?”

Sam shrugged, trying not to give away how very much it mattered...and at the sick feeling building in the pit of his stomach at what _wasn’t_ being said, “It doesn’t matter, not really; except I’d like to know whether you really are an old hat in this...”

“I see” Still not giving anything away

So Sam pushed, “So are you? Experienced, I mean?”

The elder averted his eyes, “Does Hell count?”

“It doesn’t.” Sam denied emphatically, even as he felt his voice crack, “Hell doesn’t count, Dean... and I- oh God, Dean... _Dean_?”  And wasn’t it ironic that it was Sam seeking comfort even when it had been Dean who’d... _that’d_ -

Sam closed his eyes, feeling the sting of tears at the loss of yet _another thing_ that had been taken from his brother. “Dean, I-I’m-”

“Sam, stop... it’s over, alright? It’s over. I got out. And I dealt with it... besides, like you said, it _doesn’t_ matter, Sammy. Not anymore.” He paused, before raising torrid green eyes to look him in the eye, “And can we please _not_ talk about this?”

The younger Winchester nodded, sniffling lightly as he covertly wiped at a stray tear, “Okay... yeah. Yeah”

Dean stepped forward, “Ruined the mood, didn’t I? Sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter”

“No?”  The elder was honestly surprised.

“No... I don’t think either of us is ready for that yet.”

“Bros before hoes and all that?”

Sam nodded, laughing weakly; “Something like that... and dude, did you just call us -?”

Dean smirked, “Well Sammy, if the shoe fits...”

Sam grinned, “Jerk”

“Ah, but you love this jerk!”

He leaned against the headboard, watching as Dean climbed in next to him, “That I kind-a  do...”

“Even now... After-” Dean waved a hand gesturing at the room, indicating whatever had just passed.

“Even now,” Sam confirmed, “And like I already said, I don’t think either of us is ready for that... _Yet_ ”

Dean nodded, “And what if I’m _never_ ready, Sammy?”

“We’d still be together, Dean...I meant what I said- you’re ‘ _it’_ for me.”

Dean shot him an annoyed scowl, hating the impending ‘chick-flick’, “Are you seriously comparing me to that fur ball from the Adam’s family?”

Sam grinned back unrepentantly, recognising the tactic and choosing to play along, “Well, you _are_ kind of adorable... makes me wanna cuddle-” And he ambushed the older man into a hug, not allowing Dean’s squirming to dissuade him, “you”

“Jesus!” Dean huffed as he righted his clothing. “Hey, do ya think we should call Jesse o’er since we’re not-”

Sam shook his head, “No, as much as I love the kid, I think I’d like to spend some quality time with my brother... if that’s okay with you. I- I mean we can always grab him if you wan-”

“Nah, I’d like some ‘quality time’” Dean made air-quotes around the word, “with my baby brother too”

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

 “Dad!”

Sam knew they had made a mistake the second Jesse’s frantic call drew the Angel’s attention towards them. In the split second before Zachariah neutralized the threat that Jesse posed to him, he took in Adam’s curled form and Dean’s distressed expression. Even rushing to put himself between their son and whatever the sadistic Angel intended; the whimper that escaped Jesse’s lips told him he was too late. He knew it wouldn’t really matter- a physical barrier had never stopped the angel’s before; but still instinct had him kneeling before the child, trying to determine if he could see what Zachariah had done to the boy. 

In the background, Zachariah laughed “So... _Dean Winchester..._ Heaven’s own weapon... or more accurately, should I say the patron saint of _ALL_ abominations?”

His brother didn’t rise to the goad, just continued holding still as his eyes tracked the motions of the angel and the bent forms of his half-brother and son, his expression tortured.

“You know, I never could follow what our Father saw in you...you _tortured souls_... and not once but for nearly a _decade_... and what’s more, you _enjoyed_ it; didn’t you, Dean?”

Sam sucked in a breath; in that instant he hated the Angel more than anything he had ever known- including the yellow-eyed bastard who had ruined his life. He could feel the boy trembling in his arms and fought to stay calm and protect the kid when every fibre of his being screamed to destroy the gloating angel who was pouring the proverbial salt over the wounds scarring his big brother’s psyche.

“And you continue to support the abomination that you call your brother against all advice...”

“Sam’s not evil.” Dean’s denial was instant.

“And now you even have the little _anti-Christ_ calling you ‘Dad’... Dean, Dean , Dean... when will you realize that you are supposed to _destroy_ evil- not nurture it!” Zachariah continued as if he had not heard.

“Jesse’s just a kid, Zach... leave him out of this!” Dean growled.

“Still defending them? ... makes me wonder if you truly are Heaven’s warrior. I wonder what makes you so special...” The Angel mused as gave a sigh of fake concern.

Sam knew that the little boy clinging to him gasping for breath had the ability to stop the merciless Angel with a single word; but they had never trained their son for _this_. Never taught him to disregard his own pain to finish the job... and Sam couldn’t deny that he never wanted Jesse to have to learn that.

He had had a lifetime of watching his big brother swallow whatever discomfort... or even full blown _agony_ he’d suffered in order to obey Dad’s command... or sometimes simply shield _Sam-_ using himself like an armour made from flesh and blood... and he’d himself had learnt to do the same. Now he didn’t think he could stomach watching their son follow their footsteps in this as well.

Even if meant watching Dean get dragged through the proverbial coals for it.

He brushed shaking hands through the child’s tousled locks and heard the Angel tell Dean that he could stop his family from getting tortured with a simple ‘yes’... and Dean refuse.

His heart soared, but the next instant he was coughing up blood and knew what the Angel was doing- tipping the scales by tempting Dean with the one thing his brother held sacred above all else: _protecting his  family._

“You’re finally ready, right?”

Dean looked from the Angel to his fallen brothers and son.

“You know there’s no choice, right? There’s never been another choice.” Zachariah continued in faux comforting tones.

Dean finally turned anguished eyes towards the angel, “Stop it. Stop it now.”

The angel smiled cruelly, enjoying the defeated expression on Dean’s face, “In exchange for what?”

“Damn it, Zachariah. Stop it, please. I’ll do it!”

The Angel couldn’t keep from gloating, “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Dean was frantic, “Okay, yes. The answer is yes!”

Even through his haemorrhaging insides, Sam couldn’t help the betrayed, “Dean!”

He closed his eyes, not wanting to witness his brother surrender his body to the archangel. A tiny part of him hoped Zachariah would succeed in haemorrhaging him to death before that happened- at least then he wouldn’t have to watch his big brother fail.

“Of course I have a few conditions” Dean added.

 _What?!!_ He opened his eyes only to find Dean winking at him.

“What?” The angel sounded peeved.

“The safety of a few people you have to guarantee-”

“Fine! Make a list”

Dean smirked, “But most importantly, Michael cannot have me till he disintegrates you”

“What did you say?”

Sam started to smile- _his brother had a plan-_ but the sudden flare of the agony in his gut was a roar in his ears that blocked out all sound for a minute or more. He got his hearing back just in time to hear Zachariah’s haughty, “Michael’s not going to kill me!”

His brother’s look alone told him that it was ‘over’ but he still relished Dean’s reply of, “Maybe not. But _I_ am” just before he stabbed the holier than thou bastard with Castiel’s Angel killing sword.

And then he was cringing away from the flare of light from the Angels’ dying grace before Dean was hauling him to his feet and picking Jesse up. They barely made it outside before the door shut behind them.

And no amount of pounding released Adam.

*

Later in the Impala as Dean confessed to what had changed his mind and promised to take the fight to the Angels instead, he saw a glimpse of his Big brother again. And as much as he’d wanted to save Adam, Sam couldn’t regret having Dean with him instead.

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

“Where’s the kid?” Bobby asked as Dean emerged from the diner.

“Inside, talking” Dean’s face showed what he thought of the idea, and Bobby decided to distract the younger hunter before he lost his patience and stormed back inside, “What happened?”

As Dean gave a rundown of what had happened inside, Bobby couldn’t help but question what Dean was more frightened of-whether he was more afraid to lose or to lose his brother.

And just when he thinks he’s about to be decked, Jesse emerged from the door calling “Dad!”

“Jesse, you okay?” Dean asked; focus immediately on the child as he crouched to catch the boy flying into his arms in a practiced manoeuvre; his eyes already scanning the boy for any visible signs of injury.

“Yeah” The boy enthused, “I like him!”

“ _Him..._ you’re talking about the Horseman?”

“Uh-huh...” the child nodded, “Why is he called a Horseman, I don’t see any horses. I asked him too.”

“You did?” Dean asked, mortified by the thought of his seven-year old questioning Death. “What did he say?”

“He just laughed and told me to ask you.”

“Did he say anything else?” Dean questioned, unable to crack a smile despite the obvious humour in the situation.

“He told me he was kind of a grandfather to me”

“Yeah?” Dean’s voice was a croak; trying to wrap his mind around the fact that the Horseman Death; the very same one who’d told him that one day he would reap God himself was ‘ _kind of a Grandfather_ ’ to his son.

“Uh-huh” Jesse nodded.  Not intimidated at having spoken to one of the most powerful beings on creation at all.

“That’s it?”

“Yep” The boy answered, “Can we go to Papa now?”

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

He walked resignedly to the Impala’s trunk where the jugs of Demon blood had been stored. Dean paused next to him and in that instant, Sam couldn’t stand to have Dean see him like this... it brought back memories of the things he’d said... the things he’d _done._

“You mind not watching this?”

His brother’s eyes caught his for a second before Dean gave a barely perceptible nod, shifting away.

The first sip had him gagging in disgust- _how had he actually enjoyed this last year?_ But he forced himself to swallow steadily till he emptied the container. He picked up the next one and the very smell burned his nostril. He barely managed to set it on the side of the road before he was retching- spitting the dark liquid which looked blackish under the fluorescent glare of the street lamps.

A gentle hand pulled back his hair and he felt warm arms wrap themselves around his waist as he continued to dry heave.

“You shouldn’t- shouldn’t see-”

“Sshhh... I’ve seen you worse, Sammy. A bit of puking isn’t going to put me off”

He allowed himself to be manoeuvred to the back seat of the Impala, accepting the comfort that its familiarity provided, “Don’t want you to remember me like this”

Dean shook his head, “You’ll always be my baby brother, Sam. This changes nothing.”

Sam had to look away at that. His eyes found the almost full second jug where he’d dropped it and he shuffled to try and reach it, “I need to-”

“Yeah” His brother agreed, handing him the industrial size flask and watching with furrowed brows as he swallowed, trying not to gag.

“You think you’ll be able to finish ‘em all?”

Sam looked back at the remaining four containers and felt his stomach protest mutinously, “I- I don’t have a choice-”

“There’s always a choice” Dean pushed him till he was fully inside the car before joining him and straddling his knees. It took some manoeuvring given that they were both large men, the older brother hitting his head a few times on the roof that made him giggle helplessly; but ultimately they were successful, even though Dean had to bend down at an angle Sam that was sure was pure torture on his back. His brother’s hand combed back his hair, a rare- _desperate_ gesture of affection.

“If- if you want...” Dean licked his lips, “I’ll let you, if you want... if it helps”

For a moment Sam was confused but when Dean shifted slightly, the implications were all too plainly clear. “Bobby and Cas are watching”

“I don’t care, Sam... If you want-”

He shook his head quickly, it was nice of Dean to offer-a last _hurrah_ of sorts, but-“I don’t have anything-”

“I can take it. You know I can. I don’t mind, Sam... Besides; I-I think I’d like to feel you for as long as I can”

The words were softly spoken, a confession; but Sam reared back like he’d been slapped, “That’s how you want to remember me? As someone who’d hurt you? Over and o’er...”

“No!” Dean’s protested, then softer, “No, Sammy... It’s just...”

“Can’t we leave it as just this? I-” he licked his own lips, painfully aware that time was running out, but reluctant to release Dean just yet, “I like having you close-”

“Anything” Dean assured.

“Anything?” He remembered the promise he’d failed to extract on the way here... this seemed like a good time to finish that conversation, even though he knew that it was the last thing that either he or Dean wanted at the moment.

His brother looked at him steadily for a moment before realizing what he was asking. Dean’s faced closed as he held up a finger for the universal sign of ‘wait’. Calling Castiel, he quickly set up an IV so that Sam could continue imbibing the blood while they talked.

When at long last-once he’d deemed himself ready to continue the conversation; Dean turned back to face him, eyes glimmering with unshed tears, “Don’t ask _that_ of me, please... I-I’ll raise Jesse, make sure he grows up into the kind of guy you’d be proud of; Sam... But don’t ask me to settle down with-” Dean paused, voice breaking at even the idea of spending the rest of his life without his baby brother, “...I-I’ll do it, you know? If _you_ ask, I’ll do it ...but Sam; that’s-that’s not gonna be fair to Lisa or any other girl I choose to play house with.”

Sam nodded, feeling the sharp outline of Dean’s watch against his back as the elder brother held him. His heart twinged for the pain his brother was working so hard to conceal: A distraction was in order, “What about a guy?”

“Guy?”

“Yeah, you said you can’t settle with a girl... why not a guy?”

Dean’s muffled laughter vibrated through him and Sam nosed against his collar. He smiled at Dean’s whispered ‘bitch’, but sobered quickly, remembering that this was pretty much the last chance he was going to get with Dean.

“I’m serious, Dean... it’s not Jesse I’m worried about. I know you’ll do a good job with him-”

“Yeah?” Dean’s voice was strangled, desperately trying to hold back his emotions.

“ _Of course_! I mean, the last kid you raised went on to get a full scholarship at Stanford, didn’t he?”

Dean laughed softly, but there was something broken about the sound and Sam shifted to curl tighter around the older hunter.

“I’m serious, Dee...” purposely using the long-unused childhood version of his brother’s name, “it’s not Jesse I’m worried about. It’s you.”

“Me?” And the older Winchester sounded deliberately confused, not comprehending what Sam was talking about.

“Yes, _you_... You’ll bleed yourself dry for Jesse and I know it. He’ll grow up to be an amazing kid; but what happens then, Dean? _Once our boy is all grown up_?”

“I’m not going to hold him back; if that’s what you’re implying” Instantly on the defensive.

“I know that. Hell, you _pushed_ me away to ensure I chased my dreams even when it had to be tearing you apart, Dean. You really think I’m worried about you holding our son back from achieving his full potential?”

The elder sighed, “I’m not sure what you want me to say here, Sammy... If you think I can simply pick up the pieces and carry on, then I’ll disillusion you right now; _I can’t_... I’m sorry, I know you want me to able to promise you that Sammy; but I- I _can’t_. I can’t lose you and simply dust myself off and keep going. I’ll keep trying to find a way to get you out-”

“No deals; promise me- no deals, Dean”

“No deals, atleast not ones involving either of our souls; happy?”

Sam snorted, “ _Peachy_ ”

They sat in silence for a few seconds before curiosity had him speaking again, “And if you can’t find one?”

“I’ll find a way to join you”

“ _In the pit_?” He would always deny that it was a squeak.

“In the pit” Dean confirmed.

“No! Dean, you can’t... please-”

“Can’t go to heaven without you, Sammy... ours is a shared plot; remember? My heaven doesn’t exist without you... and if I have to take another trip downstairs; I’d _really_ like to keep you company.”

“I can’t watch you getting tortured, not again-”

“We’d be together, Sam... No amount of torture can trump that”

He sighed, reluctantly conceding that his brother had a point. “I hope you find a way to spring me”

 _Hah! Slim chance,_ his brain scoffed; _better than watching Lucifer tearing Dean apart,_ the rest of him retorted.

“No arguments from me on that front” Dean mumbled; his fingers tracing invisible patterns on Sam’s back.

Sam sighed, snuggling closer; Heaven knew that Dean Winchester hated chick-flick moments; but now, in the face of his worst fear-aka ‘ _losing Sammy’_ ; it appeared that all rules were broken.

“I’m going to miss this; you know?”

“Me too, Bitch. _Me too_ ”

*

Sam allowed himself one last minute of having everything he could have ever wanted- breathing in his brother’s familiar scent, trying to imprint it in his brain so that he would never forget  ... and then he pulled back. “Okay. Let’s go”

∞∞\∞‡∞/∞∞

Sam found his hate reaching epic proportions as the Devil taunted his brother with how he’d already told him that Sam would say ‘yes’ in Detroit. He watched as Dean strutted his stuff, acting like his usual cocky self though he could hear the tremor underneath.

When Lucifer told them he knew their plan, he felt a momentary pit of despair, but then amazingly Lucifer accepted the challenge, saying he liked the idea of a one-on-one fight for control inside Sam’s head; and Sam knew that he couldn’t afford to lose.

“Yes” He whispered, concentrating on his best memory of his brother in hopes of _that_ giving him that bit of extra impetus; but then a blinding white filled the room as Lucifer transferred his tainted grace to Sam’s body.

The last thing he saw behind his closed eyes was the mesmerising green of Dean’s eyes.

And then the world went black.


End file.
